


Until Eventually

by TisTheEast



Category: Ripper Street
Genre: F/M, Series 1
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-20 11:58:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2427896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TisTheEast/pseuds/TisTheEast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following Jackson and Susan from his arrest at the end of series 1.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *Cross-posted to FF.N*

The sight before her was one Susan had always dreaded. Seeing her husband being taken away in chains was the way many of her nightmares over the past four years had begun, and yet a mere four hours ago, she had thought herself finally free of that potential scenario.

She and Jackson had walked home from Lehman Street arm in arm, each quietly contemplating what had come to pass that morning, what it meant to be finally through running from their past. Upon stepping through the door of the wrecked house, she had sighed heavily. It would take a day to repair the house from the damage the Pinkertons had wrought and another to round up all of the girls from wherever they gone to flee Frank's men. Her thoughts were interrupted when his hand found hers, their fingers interlacing easily.

She felt guilty smiling knowing that mere blocks away, the street was stained with Frank Goodnight's blood. While Susan had no affection for the man, she knew well that there was a brotherhood amongst the Pinkertons, and bonds had been severed and lives lost for the sake of her and Jackson's happiness. She shifted away from him just slightly, but in doing so their eyes met and for a moment she was back in New York wondering whether the whole of the city could hear her heart pounding when she looked into Matthew Judge's eyes.

Taking a breath, she tore her eyes from his gaze and once again took in the wreckage before them. No, this certainly wasn't New York and although they could be called as such without consequence, Caitlin Swift and Matthew Judge seemed such distant shadows of who they were now. But where then did that leave Susan Hart and Homer Jackson?

"I could have never dreamed it would happen like this," she said softly.

"And yet here we are, you and me, darlin'." He leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead slipping his other arm around her waist and pulling her close. Unlike the previous day, it was Susan who reached up to stroke his cheek, and it was she who pressed her lips to his. Yesterday, they had kissed and it felt like goodbye; today when their lips had met, there seemed to be only possibility ahead.

As the constables led Jackson out of the room four hours later, Susan could still feel her husband's lips on hers, but she couldn't help but wonder if they hadn't indeed just been prolonging their farewells of the previous day.

Were she the type of woman who fainted easily, this most certainly would be an occasion for it. She briefly considered faking it; a woman swooning over her husband's arrest might well provide a proper distraction, a chance for them to run. But she didn't how how many men Abberline had outside and how many others had already gathered at the rumor that the chief inspector had his Ripper.

No, Susan was not prone to fainting, but arguing was quite another story.

"I assure you that this is all quite preposterous given that Captain Jackson is a surgeon in your very own H-Division. If you simply summon Inspector Reid -"

"He'll do what, Madame?" Abberline said in a condescending tone a little too reminiscent of Theodore Swift for her liking. "Turn a blind eye to the fact that this man has been lurking under our noses for years now. I'll see them hang side by side if I have to."

She gave him a defiant glare, "And what of your failings in all of this, seeing an innocent man hang on a false charge?"

"You watch your tongue, Miss Hart, lest I start questioning how it seems to have escaped your notice that Whitechapel's most notorious criminal has been living comfortably under your roof." The chief inspector's voice raised to a shout as they stood glaring at each other on the landing.

"Abberline!" came another shout, this one from the staircase. The two policeman escorting Jackson halted their descent, allowing the Captain to turn, just slightly. "Go ahead and drag me down to Lehman Street so we can get this sorted out."

Hands chained, he managed to nod toward Susan, eyes locking with hers for just a moment. "But you leave her out of it."

She opened her mouth to give Inspector Abberline yet another piece of her mind, but closed it again, unsure she could muster the desired amount of force in support of her argument. Susan needed all of her energy to fight back tears as Jackson was once again made to move down the stairs, out the front door, and once again away from her.


	2. Chapter 2

He'd like to believe that they had done some good, but now it seemed to be all unraveling. One of their own was dead, and now one of his greatest allies was being made out to be one of his greatest enemies by a man he'd once considered not only a partner in investigation but a friend as well.

"Precisely how long must we endure this ridiculous charade?"

Inspector Reid looked up, not at all surprised to see the figure glaring at him from the doorway to his office. "Do have a seat Miss Hart."

"You can spare me your formalities, Inspector," Susan said taking a step into the office, her hand settling on her hips. "I'd prefer, instead, that you explain how it is that an innocent man, alongside whom you yourself have worked in this very building, is not only falsely arrested but remains, six hours later, locked in one of your own jail cells."

"Were the accusations against Captain Jackson any other, this matter would have long been settled," Reid said evenly, trying to suppress his own anger at the situation. "But surely you know that I cannot simply allow this matter to be swept under the rug as I have so many times before. Inspector Abberline, the press, the people demand justice."

"And you would see an innocent man hang to give it to them? My husband's blood for your job?"

Reid raised an eyebrow, a longstanding suspicion finally confirmed. But there was no opportunity to interject as Susan was far from finished. "And how many times has he saved your job and asked for nothing more than a day's wage in return? And what of your wife, who, if I'm recalling correctly, would have succumbed to poisoning were it not for Captain Jackson's intervention?"

At this, Reid stood. "That's quite enough Miss Hart."

"Is it?"

Even in such a small space, it was surprising how quickly he could go from standing behind the wooden to being just short of uncomfortably close, their difference in height making it all the more seemingly intimidating as he hissed, "And what would you have me do, Susan?"

She regarded him calmly, almost defiantly. "In a perfect world, Inspector, I'd have you bid farewell to my husband as we left this place, never to set foot in these halls for the rest of our lives. I am, however, more inclined to practicality than fantasy. Therefore, if you could simply be troubled to do your job and ensure that your jail cells aren't overrun with innocent men, especially those on whom you rely for so much, I may find it within myself to be grateful."

Although she made it so easy, nearly invited him to keep arguing, Reid was too tired, too disheartened to allow it to go on. His curt nod belied the softness of his tone, "Would you a like a moment to see him before you go?"


	3. Chapter 3

_Author’s Note: Contrary to what I’ve probably lead you all to believe, I have not, once more, dropped off the face of the earth though I do sincerely apologize for the delay. Season 3 was pretty rough on me, but even after it was through, a few real-life projects took over and took up all of my time, energy and inspiration. Those wrapped up roughly a month ago, and I’m just now back in the headspace to write. So again, sorry for the delay. I hope to get back into a more regular routine very soon._

She hadn’t set foot in this particular part of H Division since her own brief stay in that cell on the lower floor.  Summer was now upon London; the air was made thick by a looming storm, making it seem as if the walls of the cell block themselves may start producing rain at any moment.

Susan took deep, measured breaths as she walked slowly, purposefully toward Jackson. If questioned, she’d blame her unsteadiness on the heat because she refused to show Reid or anyone else the satisfaction of knowing what she was truly feeling at the moment, save for Jackson who could see the emotion in her eyes.

“Figured you’d be staying as far away from this place as possible,” he drawled loudly for Reid’s benefit, as the Inspector settled himself near the door, just close enough to keep an eye on them.

“Of course not,” she replied a bit more breathlessly than she would have liked, as she gripped one of the bars that separated them. As his hand came to rest on hers, they shared a tentative smile.

“Any of the girls come back yet?” he asked, stroking her cheek with his other hand.

“Charity, Myrtle, Bella and Mary so far. No word from Rose.”

“Inspector Reid might be able to provide you with some information on that front.” Susan raised an eyebrow in question, glancing for a moment at Reid. Jackson took the opportunity to take her other hand in his, as much as the bars would allow.  “Listen, darlin’”

Her eyes snapped to meet his. “If for whatever reason I don’t leave here,” he began, focusing his gaze on their hands, still joined over the cell bars. He continued, not wanting to give her a chance to interrupt, to hear the panic creep into her voice. “And believe me, darlin’, I have every intention of walking out of this place a free man - but if my fate’s decided, I want you to leave this place. Go to Paris or Dublin or whatever catches your fancy, but Christ, Caitlin, don’t stay here.”

“I’ll return tomorrow, a pistol hidden in my skirts,” she began in a hushed whisper.

“--and you’ll be the one to shoot a policeman this time or will I?”

She stared at him, incredulous, “It was much the same that brought us here.”

“I won’t have these men’s blood on my hands too,” he snapped dropping her hands and running his own through his hair. The fact that she hadn’t stormed off, hadn’t uttered a single word in reply spoke volumes of her present state of mind. He again reached for her hand, now gripping the shiny green fabric of her skirt.

“From the very moment we met, you swore to me...”

“I don’t go back on that vow,” he eased her hand back into his stroking the spot where she had worn a wedding ring for only a brief few months. Jackson flashed a devilish smile. “Despite my many other failings.”

Susan grinned sadly as he went on.

“Which is why you have to listen to me, Darlin’. Whatever way this thing ends up, I won’t have you in harm’s way as a part of it.”

Before she could argue further, Susan found herself jumping slightly as the door the cell block opened, slamming against the adjacent wall. A constable whispered something to Reid and then turned to leave as the Inspector made his way toward Jackson’s cell. “Inspector Abberline approaches.”

Susan nodded at Reid’s meaning; it was time for her to make a hasty exit. She stared at Jackson for another moment, not wanting or able to say anything close to goodbye. Luckily, he felt precisely the same, squeezing her hand and simply saying, “I’ll see you soon, Darlin’”


End file.
